How to be a Zen Master
by Jaycie Victory
Summary: A series of unrelated one-shots exploring the relationship between Jackie and Hyde. Some fix-it fics, some might-have-beens; some happy, some angsty. Rated T 'cos I suspect I'll need it later on...
1. Delicate

**Delicate**

Hyde was a hard-ass. Always had been.

Unbreachable. Unbreakable. He'd learnt the importance of invulnerability from a young age.

To be hard was to be strong. To be unreachable was to be smart. Otherwise you might as well just slit your wrists and bleed to death.

And that extended to other people. Showing softness was not a good thing. To be soft was to risk breaking.

But he wasn't a total ass. He might not show softness to others, but he wouldn't go after someone who couldn't take it.

That was one of the reasons Jackie was so fun to hate. A pint-sized virago of bitchiness and vapidity. She always gave him a good fight. And her superficial pointlessness made her an easy, guilt-free target.

Though even she didn't deserve how Kelso continually cheated on her.

And that was how it had started.

Kelso was the reason he first saw her cry. Kelso was the reason he first realised she was breakable.

He'd shrugged it off after as a strange anomaly - the way they'd interacted in the cabin. The way she turned to him for comfort. Like a freaky trip. Odd, maybe a little intriguing, but ultimately distasteful.

But he couldn't get the idea out his head. Somehow the notion of her breakability had lodged. Suddenly he was aware of how tiny she was, how physically fragile. He saw a softness within revealed in huge eyes, delicate hands and elf-like proportions.

The rules shifted after that. It was okay to do the occasional burn; it wasn't okay to hurt her. Really hurt her. In fact, not seeing her hurt became an object.

When she cried, he had to make it stop.

He'd never really had reason to touch Jackie, and given the chance to would have sworn he'd disgustedly reject the possibility. He still avoided touching her, but the reason had changed. He found himself worrying he might hurt her. Like when they danced together at prom. She'd put her hands in his and they were so small; he couldn't bring himself to fully close his fingers.

He told himself that was acceptable. Guys were much bigger than girls; he was much bigger than Jackie. It made sense for the strong to protect the weaker. That didn't make them weak themselves. So, protecting her in small, subtle ways, that was okay.

It was what came after that that wasn't.

He didn't know it, but that time in her car, when he found his hands smoothing through her hair with tender gentleness, when he found himself anxious to reassure her, to comfort, to protect, that was when the other part started, too.

Punching out that dillhole Chip made it worse. It led to sitting on the car bonnet, listening to Jackie unpick his character, sharing a surprisingly hot kiss… then watching her walk away unscathed. That was when the cracks began to appear. But they weren't cracks in her.

So, the two phenomenons went side-by-side. The need to look out for her ever-increasing. Even when they started fooling around, he always found himself bracing his weight on his arms, never fully lowering, as if he was afraid he'd crush her. She was so soft, slotting perfectly around him as if she'd been made for him; falling asleep together in the basement, her petite perfection curled inside his embrace.

She was so soft... yet at the same time she was screaming at the wrong person to get off her boyfriend. She accepted presents when she shouldn't. She offered comfort that should have been his alone.

She made a fool of him.

His retaliation had seemed right, just, correct. It was the action of someone who didn't give a crap; a hard-ass; an unbreakable stone.

For a moment he gloried in it, gloried in the fact that he could walk away unbroken. Tit for tat. A cold-hearted move for a cold-hearted bitch.

The impact of finding out her innocence sent a shockwave through the cracks he was barely aware were there. Gouged out whole pieces, leaving… feelings. Urges. The need to explain, apologise… beg. Things that Were Not Acceptable.

And he still didn't get it. He still didn't get just how deep the rot had gone. Even when he found himself taking her back after she'd made him jump through hoops, even after he found himself considering saying yes to her freaking ultimatum.

It wasn't until he found Kelso in her room in Chicago and the tsunami of anger, jealousy, _pain_ came crashing down, hammering at his weakened surface. That was when he realised he'd been breached to the core.

That was when he realised just what a threat to him she was.

There was only one answer: he had to crush her.

* * *

Hyde hauled Sam close, not bothering to be gentle.

Sam was a diamond. Shiny, impersonal – and hard. Near-impossible to scratch, let alone bruise.

He didn't need to worry about hurting her. He didn't feel a need to protect her.

More importantly, her diamond-hardness was attractive, occasionally dazzling, but it couldn't touch him; it didn't breach him. It never would.

With Sam, he was safe. She would never reach his core.

With Sam, he never had to worry about _her_ crushing _him_.

_fin_

* * *

**A/N So this is my latest obsession. I was late to the table to That '70s Show, only discovering it eight years after it finished airing, but I love, love, _love_ it. Even though I know season 8 (which I haven't watched yet) is to come and I'm going to get my heart broken. Why? Because Jackie and Hyde have totally sucked me in. I am 100% Zennie. And this series is my therapy for the fact I know they don't end up together. I've got about six other one-shots mostly finished (they all came out over three days; told you I was obsessed) so watch this space as I try to work through my feelings ;)**

**Hope you enjoy.**

**A/N2 Ohhh-kay, just got a pretty strong review anonymously, so I can't reply, so just gonna address it here. This isn't a series devoted to 'how to be a zen master'; I'm sure there are other stories following that format. That's just the name I came up with as an overarching title for a series of *unrelated* one-shots about Jackie and Hyde. As for this chapter, I've only just started reading Jackie/Hyde fanfiction, but I have yet to read a story at all like this one, so I can promise I'm not copying anyone. Any similarities are entirely coincidental. If anyone can point me in the way of it, I'd be interested to read it :)**


	2. Your Time Will Come Again

**Your Time Will Come Again**

He'd never admit it out loud, actually he'd pound the first person who suggested it, but entering the basement and seeing Forman with his arm around Donna made things feel right for the first time in a long time. (Well, Donna still needed to dye her hair back – who would've thought he'd ever be against blonde? But facts were facts, and Donna as anything other than a redhead was just plain wrong.)

Hyde's gaze darted around the room, taking in a dozily grinning Kelso seated by the door, a wide-eyed Jackie yammering at Donna (while Forman rolled his eyes from his perch on the back of the couch), and to the right of them, Fez, sucking on a chocolate popsicle with a dreamy expression.

Hyde meandered his way to the deep-freeze to get his own.

"Hey, Fez!" Forman gave a gritted-teeth smile. "Any chance you could stop chomping on that candy and chomp on your girlfriend instead?" Donna gave him a revolted look. "What?" he added, in an undertone. "Can you think of a better way to shut her up?"

Oh, right, of course. Jackie and Fez were together now… Hyde smirked slightly to himself. He gave that a month. Enough time for Jackie to become screamingly bored once she'd totally dominated him.

A slightly self-conscious Fez smiled nervously. "Why, of course. After all, she is by far the sweeter treat." He slipped an arm around Jackie, who was blushing slightly but glaring at Forman. "Come here, my little Puddin' Pop."

Puddin' Pop? Hyde's brows pulled together in a frown. But he shrugged it off and took his usual seat by the freezer.

Which meant he was in prime position to see Fez lean forward and press his lips to Jackie's.

Hyde shifted in his chair, skin suddenly prickling. He tried to focus on Donna and Forman's conversation (something about the number of times Kelso had accidentally electrocuted himself), but his gaze was dragged back to the closed-mouth kiss going on under their noses. The prickling heat feeling grew. Fez tentatively cupped Jackie's face in his hands, and the heat suddenly seemed to slice through the centre of his chest.

Hyde stared straight ahead and tried to access his Zen to push the feeling away. But… something was boiling within, churning and burning. He glanced back at the couple. Fez had pulled Jackie into his lap. She was so tiny, she even made Fez look big.

The boiling feeling intensified, spread, started to rise up his body. Hyde started to twitch.

Fez deepened the kiss and suddenly the roiling heat shot upwards, up Hyde's throat, into his mouth, bursting out of him like lava in an unquenchable yell of violent, angry, _furious_ words:

"GET OFF MY GIRLFRIEND!"

_fin_

* * *

**A/N Just a silly little short, but satisfying to write :) This is how Hyde _should _have reacted, in my opinion! In fact, if there'd been a series 9 (and the original writers were back on board) maybe this is what would have happened had he seen them making out. **

**The title of this chapter is a play on the title of the episode in which Jackie screamed this at Annette and (far more importantly) ended up telling Hyde she loves him. :)**

**More to come... **


	3. The Psychology of Love

**The Psychology of Love**

Donna considered herself a pretty chilled-out chick.

To her mind, people should be allowed to go their own way, make their own decisions.

Live their own lives.

(Unless of course it was Eric who, let's face it, required active taking care of.)

But this time... things had turned serious.

Enough was enough.

She ran down her prey in the Formans' basement.

"Hey, Hyde."

Hyde grunted from where he was sprawled in front of the TV, arms folded and legs stretched out before him, watching some kind of trash.

(The Price is Right? Yeesh.)

"Did you hear the news?" Donna continued, as she clambered over the back of the couch to flop down beside him.

"What's that?" he asked, in utterly indifferent tones, still staring at the television.

"Fez asked Jackie to marry him. She told him she needed to think about it."

Hyde grunted again. "Oh, I thought you said 'news'. The death of John Bonham – that's news. Jackie's love life? That's lining for the litter tray."

Donna mirrored his posture and shook her head with a slight smile. "You always did turn nasty when something cut too close."

Hyde took his fixed gaze off the TV screen long enough to curl his lip at her. "What the hell's that supposed to mean?"

"They're really making a go of it, Hyde. Jackie's looking for something real, something solid. For someone who'll be good to her. Why do you think she started dating Fez in the first place? She'd had enough of the drama."

Hyde's expression developed into a sneer. He turned back to the television. "Well, good for her. She's finally got a neutered little man to bitch at and boss around. Someone she can totally dominate like Kelso, but who won't ever stray. She must be so happy."

"No, I don't think she is… At least, not as happy as she could be. I don't think she really loves him... But I think she'll say yes."

He twitched his shoulders in a half-shrug. "Whatever."

"'Whatever'." Donna braced an elbow on the couch's back as she turned to face him; she propped her head on her fist. "You say that a lot, Hyde."

"So?"

"So, I wonder how much you mean it."

"I mean it every time I say it."

"I used to think so… then I saw you with Jackie."

He sighed with exasperation. "What?"

"I saw you with Jackie. I saw you say 'whatever' even when something really mattered to you. I saw you insult her to cover the fact you were falling in love."

"You taking Psych this year, Donna?" he jeered. "I'm guessing you're not top of the class."

Donna snapped upright in annoyance, one finger shooting out. "Hey! I turned in _one_ late assignment-" She stopped, and cleared her throat. "That is beside the point - and right now you're using classic deflection techniques."

"Ugh… Quit trying to analyse me, man! I am a straightforward guy. What you see is what you get. If you see indifference, that's what I'm feeling. If you see dislike, that's 'cos I do."

Donna nodded her head. "If we see fear, then you're afraid…"

He snorted. "I'm not afraid."

"Yes, you are. You always have been. You just hid it better than the other guys."

He sat up and turned to face her, body turning rigid. "You calling me a pansy?"

Donna smirked. "No – I'm calling you human. And while I'm at it, I'm calling you out on your crap."

He crossed his arms again. "What the hell you talking about, man?"

"You always cut and run, Hyde. That's your MO. Get out. Detach. Pretend not to care… until you really don't. Anything's better than being vulnerable, right? But you forget: I've seen you with Jackie. I know you're not indifferent. God - even the fact you always get so angry with her is a dead giveaway..." she reflected. Hyde had apparently opted to ignore her, turning his gaze back to the TV as he laid one arm along the back of the couch. Undeterred, Donna continued. "I've seen you two together, and I've seen you two apart, and I know you're better together. You're _happier_ together."

He opened his mouth. "I swear to God, Hyde, if the next word out of your mouth is, 'Whatever', I will kick your freaking ass!"

Hyde closed his mouth again and glared at her. "What do you want from me, man?"

Donna's expression softened. "I want you to be happy. I want _both_ of you to be happy. Can you honestly say you are?"

"Come on, Donna – how many people are ever really happy? We're all part of an endless cycle of meaningless consumerism controlled by a corrupt government who wants to keep everyone in their narrow, pointless little boxes." His tone sounded a little desperate.

Donna raised an eyebrow at him. "You're not going to distract me with your anti-government crap, either. Answer the question, Hyde – are you happy?"

There was a long pause. "No."

She smiled at him, sad and soft. "And when were you last happy?" She raised a finger to forestall him. "Not high, Hyde – happy. Actually happy." He stared at her, but wouldn't reply. She knew him well enough not to push any further. And it wasn't necessary. They both knew what his silence meant. "Okay… So what are you going to do about it? What are you going to do to get her back?"

"Who says I wanna get her back?" he blustered.

The glare returned ten-fold at this regression. She raised a leg. "Foot and ass, Hyde! Don't make me repeat myself!"

The expression on his face was remarkably close to a pout. "Say I do want her back… What's the point? She's with Fez now."

She rolled her eyes at him. "Don't pretend her being with Fez would be enough to stop you. Especially when I know you know they're not right together. You really think they'd be happy if they got married?" An involuntary snort escaped Hyde, and she smiled. "Exactly. Jackie would run rings round him and be bored within a few years. So, he'd end up miserable anyway. Besides, Fez is a perv, but he's also my friend. And friends don't let friends marry people when they're still in love with someone else."

There was a long pause and Donna wondered if she might have to apply foot to ass after all, but Hyde finally spoke, low and sullen.

"She'd never trust me again. Not after Sam."

Donna nodded. "Yeah, she'll be stubborn." She grinned. "The only person more stubborn than Jackie is you. So... it's you that's gonna have to bend. This time you're gonna have to fight for what you want. Prove you want her more than your pride."

"I did that before, Donna!" he cried, the animation in his voice taking her by surprise. She'd forgotten what it was like to see Hyde caught up in emotion. "I made a fool of myself over her. I'm not doing it again."

Her laugh was half-snort. "No, you didn't! You only really tried with Jackie once you thought you had a chance. Because you'll only risk yourself so far." She sobered. "But... this is the big one, Hyde. Get this wrong, and you could lose her forever. So…I guess the question is, how much are you willing to risk?"

Hyde stared ahead, arms folded, scowling blackly.

A minute passed. Then two.

"DAMMIT." He leapt to his feet and stalked for the door.

Donna grinned to herself and primly arranged her skirt. Crossing her legs, she gazed round the basement with a smug expression.

"Flunking Psych, my ass."

_fin _


	4. Love of My Life

**A/N I don't normally update mid-week, but the reviews have been so lovely, seemed rude not to ;) Big thank you to everyone kind enough to review. Special shout-out to Kayjay - thank you for being so wonderfully encouraging. Much appreciated.**

**The title for this chapter is deliberately taken from the penultimate episode of season 8 where Jackie chooses to be with Fez - to my mind, this is putting it where it belongs. ****This chapter can be seen as a continuation of the previous one, or stand alone in its own right.**

**Hope you enjoy :)**

* * *

**Love of My Life**

"Leave me alone, Hyde."

"Not until you listen to me."

"Fine. You say you love me? I don't believe it. If you really loved me you'd never have been capable of marrying someone else. You wouldn't want to. Even if you were as drunk as you say, it wouldn't even have occurred to you."

"Jackie…"

"NO! No, okay? Just stop. Because there is nothing you can say to change the fact you went off and married someone else. There is nothing – _nothing_ – you can say to make that okay!"

"I thought it was you."

"…"

"Jackie?"

"…what?"

"I thought it was you. I was drunk off my head, and I'd gone to Chicago expecting to get married. I'd gone there to give you an answer – I was gonna say yes."

"You… what?"

"My answer was yes. I was gonna tell you yes."

"So… instead you decided to hook up with the first whore you saw?"

"No. No, man. That's what I'm telling you – I didn't know it was Sam I was marrying. Not at first. I thought it was you."

"We look nothing alike, Steven! You expect me to believe that?"

"It's the truth."

"No one is that drunk!"

"_I_ was. I was drunk. And stoned. And..."

"And what?"

"I'd taken some other stuff, too."

"You did _what_? Why?"

"Because... Because I wanted the pain to go away. Seeing you with Kelso. Losing you."

"…"

"So, I drank, and smoked... and dropped some harder stuff."

"Steven!"

"I didn't care. I wanted not to feel. I've always felt too much around you, Jackie. Right from the start. I couldn't take it anymore."

"…"

"But taking that stuff… all it did was remind me what I want… And made me think I had it."

"What do you mean?"

"It was my idea to get married that night. I didn't know I was in Las Vegas, though. In my mind, it was all different. In my mind… we were on a beach. At sunset… and the bride came in on a unicorn."

"Steven…"

"And she wasn't tall and blonde. She was tiny… and brunette… And perfect."

"…"

"Jackie, I know I messed up. I messed up bad, and I can't change that. But I'm asking… I- I'm begging you to give me another chance."

"Why? Why now?"

"Because… because I love you, okay? Because you're it for me. Because you're the one person in my life I can't say 'whatever' to, and mean it."

"…"

"So…could we try again, Jackie? Please? Jackie…? Ah, man. Are you crying? Don't cry, baby. Please… Don't be sad. Look, I'll leave you alone, if that's what you want. I'll… I'll never bother you again."

"I'm not sad."

"…You're not?"

"No."

"Then… wait... does that mean..?"

"It means you're a dillhole, Steven. It means you're a big freakin' idiot that needs to learn to shut his pie-hole when he's standing at the altar with the wrong woman! It means you are a DUMBASS I should never speak to again! But… you're _my _dumbass. And you always will be. And even if I could change that, I wouldn't want to."

"Always?"

"Always."

"…"

"…"

"Can I kiss you now?"

"That's cool… STEVEN!"

"What?"

"How'd'you know I meant yes? I was being Zen!"

"Where Zen ends, doing it begins."

_fin_


	5. Clarity

**A/N I'm not sure how many people are actually reading this, but the people kind enough to review have been amazing so I'm continuing to post m****y Zennie fanfic therapy here ;)**

**I've got at least another four chapters to post after this one, though some will be delayed by their need for fact-checking against the series - which I still haven't finished... Because I keep getting sidetracked with new ideas.**

**This one could be seen as a counterpart to the first chapter.**

**Hope you enjoy.**

* * *

**Clarity**

Glistening, pink-tinged, princess-cut.

Perfect.

Soft strains of strings in the background.

Perfect.

For the first time in her life, the circumstances were perfect.

* * *

Jackie hadn't had much luck with proposals.

The times in her life she'd most wanted them, they hadn't happened. Actually, the first time a proposal happened she wasn't even the receiver - she'd asked the question. And Michael had not only refused, he'd run clear across the stateline and hooked up with a skank instead. (Crap – that had actually happened twice. Did twice make a pattern?)

But then things had gotten better. She'd found love in a most unexpected place, with the most unexpected person.

But the most surprising thing was how much it had changed her, and how much she'd come to appreciate those changes.

She'd learnt not to push nearly as much; she'd learnt to appreciate his strength. Never before had a man dared to defy her or refused to give in to her whims.

Hyde did it almost daily.

Hyde was at least as stubborn as she was. It was the thing she both loved and most hated about him. One time, she'd asked Mrs Forman how she would know if he really loved her if he didn't obey her. But the truth was, she liked that he didn't always obey her… She liked that sometimes he'd give in, but she'd have to fight for it. She liked the give and take. Without that, life became kind of boring… And she'd end up being bitchy, like with Michael, or low-energy like with… Well, probably best not to think about that right now.

Yeah, things had been good with Steven. So much so that she'd wanted to marry him, dreamed of it. She'd wanted to marry Michael, too. But with Michael it had been about a fairytale – the prettiest prince with the prettiest princess. She'd dreamed of the wedding.

With Steven… with Steven it had been more than that. It had been about the marriage. A bone-deep need to be with him. Build a future with him. And, as time went by, a desperation for assurance that he felt the same.

Ste- _Hyde_ had been so good at making her feel loved to start with, in spite of, or maybe even because of, the banter. She'd made so many changes for him, compromised so much, but it had been worth it. Worth it for the changes and compromises he made back. Worth it for the smiles he gave only to her, the little touches every day that conveyed his feelings; the many gestures, big and small, like shaving a beard, escorting her to dances or running out for a Vogue magazine…

She'd known to her core that he loved her, so she could live without him saying it. And maybe even more precious than that, with Steven she'd known who she was. The fullness of who she could be.

She'd never known someone so sure of who they were, so comfortable in their own skin. It made _her_ better at being comfortable; it made her better at just being.

She'd never known herself like she did with Steven.

Until things changed.

The touches were still there (Hyde and she had never been able to stop touching each other - even when things were at their worst they'd craved, needed, taken that contact), but the rest of it… He'd started saying no, even when things were really important to her. He chose other things and other people over spending time with her. He'd stopped giving as much. But maybe even worse, he'd stopped taking. Stopped letting himself need her.

She'd grown to doubt that he loved her. His actions no longer balanced the words he couldn't speak.

So she needed him to say it, needed verbal reassurance of what he felt, reassurance that they would still be together no matter how their circumstances changed.

And that had led to her ultimatum.

It wasn't even a proposal, really. Just a plea for him to say that he might want to marry her one day. And even that had been too much for him.

So, heartbroken and humiliated, she'd left. And then he'd followed… and ended up marrying someone else.

A move so devastating, so perfectly timed, she couldn't help but think it had been by design, no matter how drunk he was. To refuse to even give her a maybe, and then go ahead and marry that whore… Well, Hyde had always been good at going for the pain.

She figured she was done with love after that. Too battered, too broken to consider it. Which of course was when Michael proposed.

Because no one proposed when she actually wanted them to – she had to do all the running when she shouldn't have to, and then received proposals when they weren't what she wanted anymore. Or had ever wan- no, still best not to think about that.

So, Michael had proposed, and she'd turned him down.

He was her first love; her counterpart in so many ways. Her soulmate. But he'd called it years ago: they'd outgrown each other.

And a soulmate wasn't always the same as the love of your life. She'd known that for years, too.

After turning him down, after going through the wringer too many times, she took a long, hard look at herself. Clearly, something had to change if she was ever going to be happy. If she was ever going to stop having her heart broken. So she'd shifted her perspective. Thought in terms of someone she'd feel safe with, a situation where she'd be in control (of herself, of her heart). Like how things had been with Michael, except this time she'd fall for someone she knew would never cheat on her like he had.

The answer had been staring her in the face. And it had seemed like the perfect solution.

Until this moment, as she looked at the other thing that was staring her in the face – an engagement ring with an anxious Fez behind it.

And in spite of her efforts, her thoughts could not be silenced. Memories long suppressed bubbled up and blazed.

Like the diamond before her, her thoughts were sharp-cut, clear, dazzling. The conclusion inescapable.

Every circumstance could be perfect, every box could be ticked – it could be the perfect proposal.

But that meant exactly nothing if it wasn't the right person asking.

For the first time in years, Jackie knew herself.

And she knew what her answer had to be.

_fin_


	6. Perfect Imperfections

**A/N Argh. I'm halfway through season 7, and it's already killing me! How on earth am I going to cope with season 8 when the pain and inconsistent characterisation of this season is enough to already make me totally anguished? Apparently, the answer is by writing more fanfic... I suspect I am going to have intersperse my watching hereon with watching season 5 again to stop myself becoming totally depressed... In the meantime, I'm publishing this chapter and staying up stupidly late to do so because I really, really needed the lift!**

**This entire chapter evolved from thinking about Jackie and Hyde's exchange about her needing shiny things and Hyde asking if a foil-wrapped burger would be good enough. And from him, it was...**

**Oh! And I've re-posted chapter 4 - Love of My Life - as it seems like there was some kind of weird glitch where not everyone could see it.**

**Hope you enjoy.**

* * *

**Perfect Imperfections**

Jackie came with high standards. A code she proudly upheld.

She'd learnt from watching her father with his many minions: allow people to slack, and they'd stop trying; loosen the reins, and they'd stop obeying.

Drop your standards and before you knew it you were no longer being treated in the manner you deserved.

Once upon a time she would have sworn nothing could be worse than not getting her way. That nothing was more important than being given pretty things, being adored and being obeyed.

And then she fell for Steven. Someone who'd accept her gifts, but couldn't be bought. Someone who'd kiss her down to her soul, but refused to revere her. Someone who could occasionally be cajoled, but never forced to give way. And most of all, someone who didn't give a rat's-ass about giving her pretty things.

She'd dropped every one of her standards for him. And lived a life a thousand times better because of it.

And then he'd gone, and taken all his fiery beauty with him.

And no amount of shiny objects (a career in television), adulation (Fez's worshipful gaze) or even dreams coming true (finally being proposed to by Michael) could fill the hole he'd left behind.

Worse, she'd realised she didn't even want those things anymore. Being with Steven had irrevocably changed her.

But she couldn't bring herself to regret the changes. Even if he had changed in turn, and not for the better.

Even if he'd stopped being the boy that had made her change in the first place. Even if he'd hardened, roughened and left her. In every sense of the word.

Even if he'd stopped being Steven, and become Hyde.

The day he'd met her gaze and she saw a flash of blue in those hard slate eyes, saw a glimpse of Steven, of the boy she'd fallen for – that day had felt like her first proper breath in years. An electric current of feeling had run from her perfectly coiffed hair to her beautifully pedicured toes.

That was the day she'd broken things off with Fez and Hyde had found her crying on the porch.

That was the day he'd awkwardly patted her and told her she'd be okay.

That was the day they'd begun the journey back to one another.

And it hadn't come easily. He still didn't worship her. They still fought and disagreed. They would never slot together effortlessly; their pieces were too different. But their contrasts came together to make something bigger, brighter, better than when apart. Even more so than before.

That was one of the side-effects of having been broken – you had more choices about what to do with the pieces, more scope to create something new.

So they chose one another. And they chose to grow and change together.

And she knew that there were some steps he might never want to take. Formalities he distrusted even before Sam's betrayal. She still brought it up, of course, but the bite had left her tone, and the fear had left her heart. She'd come to realise it was institutions Steven couldn't love. Not her.

And in the meantime, life was good. Life was challenging. Life was full.

The day they were walking through town on a blustery fall morning was a day like any other. Ordinary and perfect.

She was wearing a new peasant blouse brightly embroidered across the chest.

A fluttering of purple against white caught the corner of her eye. She looked down to see a thread had worked free from the rest and was blowing in the breeze, threatening to unravel the design. She'd tutted in consternation, mourning and moaning the loss of its perfection.

Steven had watched her as she ranted, with the oddest smile on his lips. Eventually she'd crossly asked him if he was listening to her.

Leaning forward, he'd pulled the thread taut in one hand and snapped the end free with his teeth.

The look in his eyes left her struggling to breathe without knowing why.

He took her left hand in his and wound the thread tight. She registered a pressure on her finger and saw the circle that he'd made. He raised his eyebrows in question.

Her hair was blowing in her eyes. His jeans were dusty and torn. The street was dirty and grey.

She couldn't care less.

As she covered his face in kisses and gave her 'yes' through her tears, all she could think was how much he must love her.

Why else would he be willing to put her needs first?

Why else would he be happy to change his standards for hers?

_fin_


	7. Sanctuary

**A/N Gah! Just watched 7x24. Hyde letting Jackie leave; Kelso driving Jackie to Chicago. I know where this is headed... It's already too painful. **

**Fix-it fic! Fix-it fic!**

* * *

**Sanctuary**

The slam of the door was like a punctuation point. Marking the end of something.

The end of him and Jackie.

Fine. Whatever. If she'd been willing to leave Wisconsin (leave him) without even waiting for his answer, he was better off without her anyway.

If there was one thing Hyde had learnt, it was the importance of pushing people away before they could leave you.

The other way led to trashed rooms or endless questions when people found out you'd moved back in without them realising.

At least this way he was in control.

Screw Jackie, anyway. He didn't need her.

As had become customary after something annoyed or upset him, Hyde slouched his way to his room. To his cocoon.

He'd been furious when Jackie changed it. Things were fine as they were. More to the point, she'd invaded the one place he counted as his, had changed things without asking him first.

Hyde had grown up with very little, so he'd learnt to protect what he had. To pound on anyone who tried to take it away from him. Ironically, that had grown to include Jackie. Like him inviting her to share his bed when she'd been living alone. Something he'd never done with a chick before.

The woman really was freaking Tahiti. Insidious. Infectious. Inescapable.

Even here.

The room was working its usual magic, soothing and calming him, but at the same time, he felt totally keyed up. Jackie was everywhere. Her style. Her scent. She'd even put up pictures of herself!

He'd hated it at first. Hated all of it. These weren't things he needed – and they sure as hell weren't things he wanted. Then they'd started to weave their spell. The colours… the softness… the smell… Making him feel safe. Warm. Valued.

Hyde had liked his room before. Liked that there was somewhere to store his stuff that wouldn't be invaded or suddenly ripped away when the bills weren't paid. But it wasn't somewhere he spent a lot of his time, apart from sleeping... or doing stuff with Jackie. He'd come to realise other than his t-shirts and records and the High St sign, there was very little of the room that reflected him.

Then Jackie had put her mark on it, and he'd grown to love it.

It had become one of his favourite places to be. Going there was a way of getting comfort without asking for it. A way of having Jackie's presence when she wasn't there, without anyone knowing and thinking him weak for wanting it. He slept better there than he had anywhere in his life – aside from the months when Jackie lay with him.

His room was one of the few places he felt at peace.

Huh. Funny how something could go from being the last thing you wanted, to something you couldn't live without…

Ten seconds ticked by.

Hyde bolted from the room.

If he hurried, he could catch Jackie before she left.

_fin_


	8. Feels Like Home

**A/N So as expected, Season 8 is hurting like hell to watch. But not for the reason I most expected. **

**I've been expecting to be furious with how out-of-character Hyde is, as I've heard that said in several forums. But thus far, though I have hated plot developments I felt Hyde remained in character within them - with his trust issues and past and pride, I can see how he makes the decisions he makes and several future chapters will look at that. I'm aware that I'm only six episodes in and so this could all change, but what is killing me at the moment isn't what the writers have done with Hyde, it's what they're doing to Jackie.**

**I read online once that the 'new' writers brought in for season 8 hated Jackie, and figured it was hyperbole. But, my word, it really isn't. Their contempt for her really comes through, and it's awful. The scene when she was drunk in the bar - they might as well have had someone spit on her for all the respect they showed her. She deserves better. So I'm gonna do what I can to fix it.**

**There'll be quite a few drabbles and p.o.v fics coming up as I work through that, and they won't always be happy. But I also have some much needed happy endings/humorous ones up my sleeve. At least, they're much needed by me!**

**On another note, the reviews I've been getting for this fic have just been amazing. Thank you so much. It's much appreciated.**

**This is a 'might-have-been' for 7x25; it plots what I think would have happened in Chicago if Hyde hadn't turned up when he did.**

**Hope you enjoy.**

* * *

**Feels Like Home**

There's a comfort to familiarity.

Jackie spoke loud and long about the importance of being up-to-date, à la mode, and of course never _ever_ being caught dead in the same outfit twice.

But truth to tell, she valued the familiar. Growing up with a physically absent work-horse of a father and a mentally absent slut-bag of a mother had made her crave stability. Made her long for things to remain the same.

It was what had kept her going back to Michael time and time again after he cheated on her. What made her value Steven's steady, unspoken love more than the shiny things he refused to buy her. And what led to her being in this hotel room with Michael.

The drive to Chicago had continued the way it had started: Michael bitching and moaning, but ultimately giving way. The ease of issuing commands, abusing and bossing him around, had slid into place like a well-worn loafer.

Even if it did pinch a little in ways she didn't recall from before. Even if the words came out her mouth like the shape of them didn't quite fit.

Steven had done that to her. Made her stretch, made her think, made her change.

God, she'd loved him for it. Even though it sometimes made her head hurt.

But Steven was the reason she was leaving. Steven was the reason she felt totally lost.

Steven had refused to build a future with her, so she'd had to go looking for one without him.

As it had since the first time she'd realised, the prospect of that hit Jackie like a gallon of ice-water; a physical blow that made her gasp and shake.

A gaping hole of loss that threatened to swallow her whole, that had to be breathed through, managed, kept at bay.

She was Jackie Burkhart; she was young and beautiful; she was going to be a TV star.

But it wasn't quite enough. Too many things had changed. Too much was unfamiliar. She needed something to stabilise her. Something to hold on to.

And here was Michael, seemingly untouched by the years that had changed her so dramatically.

So easy to manipulate. So easy to bully.

So easy to get her way.

It was comforting to think there were still things in this world she could control when so many choices had been taken away from her.

So she'd asked him to stay the night, to keep her company, desperate to keep that gaping hole from descending. And when Michael had seen her in her nightdress and immediately suggested they do it, in his usual horndog way, to his total shock, she'd said yes.

How better to drive away the memory of Steven's lips than replace them with another's?

She once swore she loved Michael and would never stop. Who's to say she hadn't really loved him all along? Who's to say she wouldn't have been better off with him? Weren't things better then? Simpler? Easier?

No painful stretching of her mind and values; no silent demands that she do better, be better, just by being him. No give and take.

No equality.

So when Michael returned from her command to check they couldn't be seen, she'd pulled him into a hungry, devouring kiss… and then burst into floods of tears.

Because his height was all wrong; because his hair was too straight; because his lips were not Steven's.

As she locked herself in the bathroom and slid down against the door, she couldn't pretend anymore.

Steven's kisses were so much more than just physical; they were how he gave himself, and the very act of giving and receiving them had fundamentally changed her.

She couldn't go backwards; she couldn't be a loafer.

Michael wasn't familiar anymore. Michael wasn't the answer.

Steven was comfort. Stability. Safety.

Steven was home.

And she'd lost him.

_fin_


	9. A Long Time Coming

**A/N It's getting a little ridiculous now... Wrote two more this morning! Think I've got about eight more to post on top of that... The more I watch, the more I write. A lot of them are part of a 'how to fix season 8' framework which is evolving of its own accord. So every so often, I need something beyond that...**

**Love hearing from you guys. Thanks for getting in touch.**

**Hope you enjoy.**

* * *

**A Long Time Coming**

There had been several times in Donna's life when she'd struggled to speak.

When she realised what a promise ring was and what she'd indicated by accepting it. When her dad told her that her mom had left them. When Eric called from Africa to tell her they were over…

But this… this was maybe the hardest conversation she'd ever had to have.

This was a conversation she'd avoided for a long time. One she'd told herself wasn't necessary, firstly in an attempt to deny her feelings of guilt, and then because of how much things had changed – what good did it do to drag up the past?

But then the announcement had come. And it had shocked her out of her denial. The truth had been staring her in the face, and she could no longer deny the part that she had played in it.

She couldn't quiet her conscience anymore. She couldn't let things go ahead without Jackie knowing the whole truth.

No matter how hard it was, she had to say it.

"Jackie… I'm sorry."

Jackie didn't even look up from where she was happily primping at the mirror. Donna had never seen her friend so beautiful, but she guessed that made sense considering the day.

"Donna – it's fine," she chirruped. "I told you: you can't help how big your feet are. I'll just make sure the photos start above the ankle."

Donna grimaced for a moment, but let that slide. It was the least she could do. "Not about that. For something much worse."

A slight crease formed between Jackie's brows; she met her gaze in the mirror. "For what?"

"For betraying you." Each word had to be pushed out like it was lead. Not because she didn't mean what she was saying, but because of the weight of them, a weight which had only increased over the years. They should have been spoken a long time ago.

The crease deepened. "What do you mean?"

"After Chicago - when you and Hyde broke up, and he came back married, I betrayed you."

She wasn't sure if it felt better or worse that Jackie no longer looked confused. Comprehension lit her eyes and… remembered pain? Oh, _God_…

"Donna… why are you bringing this up today?" she said quietly. She seemed surprised, maybe even a little uncomfortable.

"Because I figured today of all days, you deserved to know the truth."

"Donna…"

"Please. I have to say this." Jackie turned round on her stool to face her and folded her hands in her lap. Donna took her silence as acquiescence. "Maybe if I'd done things differently... Maybe you two would have got back together."

"Donna – it doesn't matter anymore." Jackie swept an arm down herself, indicating her outfit, as if to emphasise how out of time this apology was.

"But it does – it does matter!"

Jackie's tone was gentle. Which only made her feel worse at what she had to say. "Donna, look - yeah, it hurt that you made friends with Sam, but even if you hadn't, even if she hadn't been there, Steven and I had a lot of problems. I loved him so much I couldn't see straight – but that didn't change the fact we wanted different things. So, it just couldn't work."

Donna cringed, cringed at the blow she was about to inflict. "But he married Sam – he proved he was capable of making a commitment. A commitment he could have made to you – maybe still would have. If… if I hadn't encouraged him to stay with her."

"You… you what?" Jackie looked stunned.

"I told him Sam was good for him and that he should stay with her."

Jackie blew her breath out, looking wounded. Then she shook her head and managed a small smile. "Donna, look, whatever you did, you did it 'cos you thought it was the right thing. And it doesn't matter anymore. Everything worked out. Today is the happiest day of my life, so no more sad talk, okay?"

She was being so understanding. Time had taught Jackie to be mature, but her compassion had been there from day one. It had taken a while to see it since she did a fairly good job of covering it up with bitchiness and vanity – but the people she really cared for – their happiness came first.

Donna cringed again as she remembered her conversation with Sam after Jackie had stormed out of the circle. When Sam had asked why she was friends with her. How could she have been so callous? Admittedly, she'd been baked at the time, but even off her head, she should have remembered all the times Jackie had been there for her over Eric. The protectiveness, the burns, the offers of violence… She could be annoying as hell, but there was no doubting her loyalty.

Not like Donna's.

"Yeah… that's what I told myself. But, Jackie, that's not the whole truth. The truth is… I didn't want you and Hyde to be together."

Jackie eyes widened with surprised hurt. "You mean… you didn't want me to be happy?"

"No!" Donna blurted. "No – it wasn't that. At least – not consciously. I genuinely thought you and Hyde were better off apart – you'd hurt each other so much. And you wanted different things. And, you know, after a little while you seemed fine that he'd moved on…" she trailed off. "No. No," she said again, with resolve. "I knew you weren't fine – not really. I knew you had to be hurting and hiding it. I just didn't wanna deal with that because I knew I hadn't been a good friend to you. And now… now I look at it, I realise it wasn't just that. That maybe I'd just convinced myself that you and Hyde were better off apart because it was easier… for me. The two of you together reminded me of me and Eric together. Of that time in my life. It… hurt. And… I… " She took a deep breath. This was the hardest part. "I thought that if Eric and I didn't work out, why should you and Hyde?" Jackie flinched but said nothing. There was some anger in those expressive eyes, but also a measure of understanding. Of the motivation, if not the act. "I was a shitty friend to you, Jackie. Really shitty. And I'm sorry. I am so, so sorry. Because I realise now that I kinda wrecked our friendship, and that I was part of you not being happy. And that... that _sucks_ because your happiness actually really matters to me. Because _you_ matter to me." Tears were pricking her eyes, but she held them back.

She could no longer meet Jackie's gaze; her eyes dropped to her hands where she realised her fingers had been worrying at one another. The cuticles were red and raw.

Seconds ticked by, and Donna began to worry – that the betrayal was too much even for someone as forgiving as Jackie.

She risked a look up.

A smile was dawning in Jackie's eyes, spreading until it lit her whole face. A smile of love and grace. "Donna, I forgive you. I forgave you a long time ago – why do you think I asked you to be my bridesmaid?"

Donna released the breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding. "Really?"

"Really." Jackie flew into her arms as she had so many times over the years. Before Donna wrecked things. She'd always given her love so freely. As she hugged her back, Donna realised how much she'd missed it.

Donna pulled back and smiled. Her first proper smile in a while. Maybe her first proper smile since Jackie's whirlwind romance and engagement. Her slumped shoulders lifted. She wiped her eyes where the tears had spilled over. "Okay. Let's go get your groom."

"Okay!" Jackie beamed back, then her eyes widened a little. "You think he'll be there?"

Donna laughed. "Of course he will – he asked _you_, remember? He wants to marry you. He told me."

The tiny doubt disappeared. "Yeah. Yeah, he did." She was beaming again. She took Donna's arm. "Let's go, Mrs Forman-Pinciotti."

Donna grinned. She felt almost lightheaded with the release, with sheer happiness.

For herself, and her friend.

"Right behind you, Mrs-almost-Hyde."

_fin_


	10. Promises, Promises

**A/N Okay. I finally made it out the other side of season 8. *shudders* There were several points where I just had to stop and not watch for several days, and at its worst, I had to switch to season 5 and watch Jackie and Hyde's best bits whilst deep breathing to get through it. (No, really.)**

**I actually think hearing so much about how awful the last season was may have helped - I had such low, low expectations, I was occasionally almost pleasantly surprised. For example, I actually found Randy mildly amusing at points... and then there were other, more frequent moments when I wanted to throw things at my laptop in furious disgust at what the writers had the characters doing and/or gouge my eyes out with boredom at the relentless mediocrity. Either way, expect a few drabbles as I seek to process the characters' actions within season 8 canon whilst - hopefully - still keeping within the characterisation we'd come to expect prior to the season 8 dreck-fest.**

**Did I mention I have strong feelings about this? There may even be an essay on the cards... Working title: 'How Season 8 Still Points to Zennie'. Not entirely joking...**

**This drabble deals with 8x02 and Hyde's reaction to Sam.**

* * *

**Promises, Promises**

Here was the thing people didn't know about Hyde: he was a romantic.

Not hearts and flowers, and crap, but the real deal.

If you told someone you loved them, you had to mean it. If you brought up marriage, you were gonna propose.

No half-measures.

Growing up under a string of broken promises, bottles and homes had led Hyde to make a vow: to only really give himself to something if he knew he was sticking around. And that once he made a commitment, he would always stand by it.

So he was careful before picking up people or causes. And he made damn sure he was willing to go the distance before making a commitment.

Far better to be an unreliable burnout than a dill-hole who broke his word.

That was why no matter how many time he screwed up or screwed Hyde over, he always made up with Kelso. That was why he stuck it out with WB even when he hated the corporate world.

And that was why he let Sam stay after he accidentally married her.

Sober he would never have made the decision to marry her, no matter how pissed off he was. And if Sam had wanted to leave, he'd have let her go without a fight. But she hadn't wanted to. She'd wanted to make a go of it. And that changed things. That meant she went from being a drunken hook-up to something he took very seriously: his wife.

Marriage was forever. Marriage was for life.

He'd promised himself that being Mrs Hyde would mean something again, and that meant he had to be faithful. In body and heart.

It didn't matter that his thoughts weren't entirely his own. It didn't matter if lingering feelings sometimes surfaced.

He ruthlessly suppressed them all.

He had to.

It made no difference that he'd reached the point of being willing to marry Jackie. It didn't matter that he'd started to realise he actually _wanted _that.

It didn't even matter that he still loved her.

A promise was a promise.

And Hyde always kept his word.

_fin_

* * *

**A/N 2 Within the context of what we know about Hyde and his background, his decision to stay with Sam can be justified. He always wanted a family, a home of his own. Something steady, that was only his. And on top of that, we know he had decided chivalrous tendencies. Put that alongside Sam's vulnerability when she asked him if he wanted her to go... well, what else would Steven Hyde do but say she can say? Of course, I also think there were other less noble motivations that influenced his decision, which I may explore in future chapters.**


	11. Mosaic

**A/N This one kind of took me by surprise. I really enjoyed writing it.**

**It's set post Season 8.**

**...and that's all I'm telling you. ;)**

**Hope you enjoy.**

* * *

**Mosaic**

"Mr. Forman and I want you to move in with us."

The words hang in the air like spun sugar. Fragile, precious and golden.

(She's always associated Mrs. Forman with baking.)

"It's not Steven's," she blurts, shame tinging the words with harshness.

(Better to break the lattice herself then wait for it to shatter beneath her.)

Kitty's tone is soft and sweet, like one of her batters: "We know, sweetie, but it's yours – which means it's ours, too."

She places her arms around her, and the still-slim girl breathes freely for the first time in weeks.

* * *

This was never the plan. Never amongst her many dreams.

(Not without a ring on her finger.)

But this is the hand she has been dealt, and from the moment she first found out, the bigger shock was realising that she wanted it.

There is judgment, of course. And questions. But less of both once she moves in with the Formans, their name and home providing a mantle of protection (not to mention threats of Red's foot in asses).

She names the father early on. Asserts that he was passing through, that she does not know how to reach him.

But one person knows the overlap of time; she knows he will demand an answer.

One embittered conversation, where his gaze pins her like knives despite the shades, is enough to convince him it isn't his. That it's not his responsibility.

Their night together would not have happened if not for Mrs. Forman's "Special Punch". (Really by now she should know only one thing makes drinks "special" for Kitty.)

Juxtapose that with the information she was with another guy around the same time…

Confirming his opinion of her looseness will not be going down on her Best Days Ever list.

It will join its counterpart of Worst Moments of All Time, along with Michael in a towel and a stripper with a ring.

She knows she is now dead to him. Expects it.

So it jolts her like a spark plug unwarily grasped when she attends her first Lamaze class and finds him waiting.

An even bigger surprise is the tranquility in his eyes. (It's become more common to see anger there than Zen.)

"Look, I don't wanna be here any more than you do, but Mrs. Forman threatened to break all my Zeppelin records if I didn't come, so we're both just gonna have to suck it up, okay?"

The desire for a partner, to not do this alone, to be free of the stares and snickers...

She weighs herself in the balance and pays the price.

His hands on her stomach seem to burn through her clothes.

She wonders if he feels it.

* * *

"Honey, I wanted to talk to you about something. Steven's landlord is selling his apartment, and he doesn't have anywhere to go right now. How would you feel if he took Eric's old room?"

She shrugs her shoulders, conveying her indifference. They have chosen to share their home with her. She has no right to dictate who else they extend that invitation to.

Inside, her stomach tries to drop to her toes.

It can't. There's a tiny human in the way.

It makes her straighten her spine.

She will get through this.

She has to.

The day he moves in, they nod at each other in greeting. Her arms curl protectively over the slight swell of her stomach.

His presence is like sandpaper.

Smoothing and grating.

* * *

Eavesdropping is a terrible habit. But growing up alone in a mansion made it both entertaining and vital.

A soft push on the living room door goes unheard; a split second is enough to know it's her they're talking about.

She did not set out to listen, but the temptation is too great.

She retreats from view and cracks the door.

"Well, I don't know, Red – I think I'm gonna have to disagree with you." Mrs. Forman sing-songs like a gleeful canary. "Think of how he's been: insisting he be the one to take her to parenting class - even though you said you would, and then asking to move in so that he could help out more... Maybe they could make a real go of it. They could be a family."

Without seeing, she knows Kitty is bouncing on her toes.

Red's words are uncharacteristically tentative. "That's a hard load for a man to carry – raising a child that isn't his."

"You've done it several times," Mrs. Forman points out, love sheening her tone like gold.

A longer pause. "They weren't carried by the woman I love."

She retreats to her room to chew on her chagrin.

It's a shock, yet not a surprise. His gift for deceit is no news at all; nor is the nobility that spackles his bedrock like veins of quartz.

She's just not used to being its target anymore.

Her knight in tarnished armour...

No, it's not a surprise. He would never see a child go unfathered.

Even hers.

He knows too well what that feels like.

Previously she would have confronted him – stamped her foot that she has no need for his pity or charity. But pregnancy has hollowed her out to make room for something infinitely more precious. Other considerations are pushed back or pushed out.

Her baby will always come first.

And she needs a partner.

She won't rely on it too much, of course; he has shown his inability to stick at things more than once. But she'll take what she can get for as long as it lasts.

For the sake of her child.

(She is already mentally preparing for the moment he will leave.)

* * *

They silently map the house between them, divvying out the space.

Laurie's bedroom is hers; Eric's is his.

He holds the living room with Red - mostly because of sports - but she gets the den. Sits there in the evening with Kitty.

The kitchen and bathroom are variable. First come, first served, unless the Formans say otherwise.

The dining room is rarely invoked; only for special occasions.

The biggest surprise is the basement.

It becomes neutral ground.

How could something that once housed her best joys and worst pains be neutral?

Especially somewhere that was once intrinsically his.

She avoids going down there to start. But one afternoon Mrs. Forman asks for help with the laundry.

He is watching TV in a painfully familiar pose.

She puts the clothes in the washer and turns to leave, but his voice makes her stop.

The tone is casual and detached.

The words are not.

"Little House on the Prairie is on."

It becomes a weekly ritual.

Then a nightly one.

They rarely speak, but the silence is not uncomfortable.

She does not hate it.

Much like bowling.

* * *

They are in the basement when it happens.

And it happens three weeks early.

He has just returned from the store with her ice-cream and Gummy Bears. (She does not seem to get actual cravings - but who could resist that kind of power?)

The pain comes on suddenly, and the intervals are surprisingly short.

Beneath the waves of crippling cramps, she wonders if this is how the baby will approach everything in life – an eagerness to rush ahead, to fling itself wholeheartedly at what's to come.

She hopes it will retain that. That life won't teach it to hang back and be cautious, as it has done to her.

He is more concerned with the fact they are alone. That the Formans are visiting family and are several hours away.

"Of all the freakin' nights!"

She is oddly calm. Amused by his panic.

Her comparisons to Eric are not well received. He represses his irritation, which only makes him twitch more.

"We have to get you to the hospital."

The cheerleader fragments that remain roll their eyes.

Well, _duh_…

Then something gives way deep within.

A tearing where it should not be.

A rush of liquid between her legs. The wrong kind of liquid.

His eyes rounding in horror.

Her cheek pressed to the cold of the basement floor.

When did she lie down?

His voice throbs with fear and something else… It takes her a moment to identify it.

It has been a long time since she heard tenderness from him.

(She has never heard terror.)

"Jackie, baby - stay with me. Stay with me! Please. God, baby. Please! Please!"

It's then she realises she's dying.

There isn't enough energy for fear or bitterness. (There isn't enough time.) The Formans will take care of her baby. She knows it in her bones… But there is one last gift she can give her child.

That she must give her.

She manages to push the words out. Words he most likely wouldn't hear if he hadn't hauled her into his arms. If his cheek wasn't pressed to hers. A cheek that's oddly wet.

"Steven, she's yours. I lied. I'm sorry. Take care of her, okay?"

"Damn it! Don't do this, don't do this! Don't leave me..."

He begs her to stay like her presence is vital.

Like he needs her by his side.

She takes that thought with her as she slips into darkness.

A shining piece of light.

* * *

It's the cry that makes her surface.

She's never heard it before, but she could have picked it out a room with the cast and crew of the Brady Bunch at full volume.

That's her baby calling for her.

Before her lids have fully lifted, she feels a welcome weight in her arms. A scent like summertime.

She looks down to see a cap of tightly curled hair, a little pink face nudging her chest.

It matches the blanket she's wrapped in.

She blocks out everything else in the room, everything else in her body. Her baby's needs come first.

The relief once she starts feeding is indescribable. (The sensation may take longer to get used to.)

"Is she alright?" Her voice is urgent despite its weakness.

"She's perfect." The words are gruff but heartfelt.

She closes her eyes in a moment of denial, though she already knew he was in the room. (She's never been able to unlearn his presence.)

She does not regret making the admission… but it was easier when she didn't think she'd be around to feel the fall-out.

She opens her eyes and looks at him, ready to flinch away.

His uncovered gaze is steady; there is no anger there. Nor surprise.

"…you knew." A statement, not a question.

"You've never been able to lie to me." Slight emphasis on that last word.

"You must hate me." Another statement, clipped to hide the tremor.

He shakes his head as his hand surrounds hers.

Electricity dances where he touches – she tries to tell herself it's weird.

(She's never been very good at lying to herself either.)

His expression is peaceful.

Her mystified feelings are less so.

"Don't you want to know why?"

"I know why, doll."

Her heart judders in her chest. She sternly bids it back where it was.

It doesn't listen, releasing emotion with every pulse.

"How can you be okay with this?" Whose voice is that - rising with suppressed sobs?

(She hasn't cried in nine months.)

"You're alive. I'm in a forgiving mood."

She blinks repeatedly; a few tears slip free. She does not know this boy – this man – so full of grace.

(She has not seen him for a long time.)

"Jackie… We both know you lied about the other guy. And we both know why you didn't tell me right away. But we also both know you were gonna. That's not something you could leave unsaid. You're too good for that." His unvisored eyes declare his sincerity. "The moment you let me come to classes, the moment you let me move in - you knew I knew the truth. Your head just had to catch up with it."

He brushes his lips to the hand he is holding.

"When did you get so wise?" Her mind was shattered glass, but the pieces are coming together.

A crooked grin. "I've always been wise."

"When did you get so kind?" A catch in her voice, with all the betrayal in the world in it.

And all the hope.

"When my head caught up with my heart."

His arms are around her; their child lies between them like a heartbeat.

"You don't need to apologise, Jackie. I do. For a lot of stuff."

His pieces were tightly bound, but they are falling into her hands like a jigsaw.

She remembers what it is to know him better than himself.

"When did you start loving me again?" Her voice sounds strange.

It has been a while since it bore the weight of joy.

He shakes his head in wry acceptance.

"Can't start something you never stopped."

His words reseal the fragments. Healing as mother's milk.

She breathes freely for the first time in years.

And remembers what it is to be whole.

_fin_


End file.
